Six Years Later
by wondertitch
Summary: Future for the flock.
1. Prologue Max

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**Title: Six Years Later**

**Author: Wondertitch**

**Summary: Life in the future for the flock. The flock will each have a section**

**Rating: PG13**

**Pairing: Max/Nudge Fang/Iggy**

**WARNING: Homosexual and possubly, even, some hetrosexual activity. I know, don't be too shock. Also, violence.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the flock. Or the FBI. Or Claire. But if you don't recognise a name, it could be mine!**

**A/N: So, this has been swimming about in my head for a while. And I actually believe i'll finish this one. I also think i'll get around to finishing my others over the sumer holidays. So yay!**

Max – Part 1

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As always, please read and reveiw puppy face

I look across to my left and smile at him. I don't pay attention to the lecturer, mumbling notes to the students sat before her. Just him.

He notices me looking; I bite my lip and face the front, pretending to concentrate. I can feel his ocean blue eyes burning holes in my clothes. He wants me.

I bring my pen to my mouth and bite the end. I look down, to my left, then up and stare at him through my eyelashes. I don't just want him to want me; I want him to need me.

My lecturer calls the lecture to an end and adds something about an assignment. I don't listen. I just get up slowly and carefully, glancing only momentarily at him, begging him with my eyes to follow me.

I follow the flow of people out of the hall, but rather than go downstairs to leave, I go up the empty steps to the top floor. I hear his footsteps behind me. I walk down a long hall and searching hurriedly for a particular door. To my delight, I find it and as I open it, I stop. He's at the end of the hall, watching me move, mentally undressing me. I linger there for a moment. I bring my finger to my mouth, bit it, then let it fall down my slender neck, over the curve of my breast and down to the button of my loose fitting combats. Then I walk up the last flight of stairs.

Once I reach my destination, the roof, I drop my bag and jacket and wait impatiently for him to follow. Soon I'm pinned up against the wall, his mouth exploring my body. Like an animal, he kisses my shoulder, neck and mouth, biting occasionally, as if he is unable to contain himself. He pulls away for a second, smiling, looking pleased with himself. "I've wanted you since the moment I walked into that lecturer theatre." He looks perfect. Golden blond hair, sun-kissed skin, chiselled features. His blue eyes are hungry for me, desperate to have what he came for.

I take a deep breathe, bite my lip again and then, just as he begins to draw back in slap him hard across the face.

"Change!" I bark.

He looks shocked, hesitating, not sure if I'm doing something kinky or honestly commanding him.

Again I slap him. "Change, you son-of-a-bitch."

Again he looks confused. "What are you talking about?"

This time I go for the money, kneeing him where he knows I'm serious, then kicking him to the ground with my combat boots. When he's on the floor, I straddle him. I put my hand to his throat and begin to squeeze.

"Listen, whatever happens, there's going to be a body." I inform him. "Now, I'd sooner that corpse was a filthy Eraser than a filthy model, so change!"

He chuckles and I begin to see his cheek bones length and his eyes darken, but he doesn't change. "You think I'm gonna walk into that one? You got nothing." He spits out blood and a tooth. I must have hit him harder than I thought. Not that that's a bad thing.

"I got plenty. I knew from the moment you walked into the lecture theatre what you are." I tighten my grip. I can see him struggling to keep the real him in.

"I should have recognised you, Max," he spits out my name like he had spat out his tooth, "but I guess the years haven't been kind to you."

I don't reply straight away. Instead, I lift his head and bring it back to the floor. Hard. He winces. "You've said it now. You've admitted that you recognised me. I got enough reason to bring you in. Why not put up just a little fight? For me? For the school? For old times sake?"

He looks away. I watch his profile length a little more, but he's still trying to keep it in.

"What's the matter, Wolfie? Afraid you'll get beat up by a little girl?"

And just like that, I get what I want. Suddenly I have a really pissed off wolf-man under me and he is not happy to be there. His strong arms lift my lightweight frame off his chest and throw me into the air. I land rough on the tarmac floor, but roll onto my feet to avoid becoming a target.

I turn around and see him yanking on an air vent. If he can use it as a weapon then I'll be K.O-ed in the first 30 seconds. I need the upper hand. I look over to the edge of the roof and smile. Did I plan this all along? Why else would I have picked the roof? Out here, I cannot lose.

While he is still preoccupied with the air vent I sprite towards him. I try and put all my weight into the momentum, running as fast as I can, before attempting a long jump into his side. It's not my best, but he is only a couple of feet from the edge, and soon the pair of us are free falling towards the campus.

My wings slip effortlessly through the slits in my vest top and I climb higher as I watch his clumsy, manufactured wings break through his t-shirt a couple of seconds later.

I wait only as long as it takes for him to see me and then start to fly towards the park at what I would regard as a leisurely pace. I'm sure the Eraser disagrees. I need to get away from the public eye. I can't have the sci-fi geeks thinking up conspiracy theories.

We reach the privacy of the park and I stop, turning to face him.

I've never been much of a runner. Even when I was with the flock, I'd sooner fight then flee, despite what common sense – and a particular voice – told me. Angel says I'm confrontational.

"Come on you bastard!"

I've no idea where she gets that idea from.

The moment he catches up we are in the thick of it. I lay the first roundhouse kick, and he starts to scratch at my face. I punch his jaw, he misses my nose as I dodge and then scratches frantically. I kick his gut, and try to climb higher, but he gets my foot and swings me around.

I wait a few moments as the swing puts distance between us, then climb high and fast, before coming down even faster into his chest. He is winded only momentarily, and retaliates by scratching my forehead. I grimace, but do my best to ignore it. As payback I throw some nasty blows, but soon my own blood begins to blind me and I have no idea where he is.

I hear something to my left, but by the time I turn it's too late. His weight and gravity fight against me and I start to fall through the tree. Branches whip my back. I struggle, bring my feet to his chest again, pushing him back long enough to grasp my last resource from its hiding place.

Then he gets stronger. His arms pull around me, crushing me in his vice-like grip around my chest. I feel his smile widen against my cheek. I feel as though we've been falling forever, but it must have only been seconds. We can't be too far from the ground. Everything picks up speed as the two of us fall. The closer we get, the wider his smile grows and the tighter his grip becomes. He knows the pair of us will end up floor pizza on impact, bones smashed to powder, nothing but liquid goo that once was two people (I use that term very loosely). I think he gets off on the idea that he's going to die having taken Maximum Ride with him.

Well,

not today.

**Alot more to come :)**


	2. Max 2

******Title: Six Years Later****Max Part 2**

**Author: Wondertitch**

**Summary: Life in the future for the flock. The flock will each have a section**

**Rating: PG13**

**Pairing: Max/Nudge Fang/Iggy**

**WARNING: Homosexual and possibly, even, some hetrosexual activity. I know, don't be too shocked. Also, violence and language a little stronger than mild.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the flock. Or the FBI. Or Claire, when see maes her apperance next week. But if you don't recognise a name, it could be mine!**

**A/N: So, I lied about end before summer. I actually had a busy summer, which is hard for you to believe, I know. But i pretty much have this wrapped up in my had. And I only have 5 contact hours at uni. So YAY!**

Please read and review.

There's a deafening, ear-drum piecing noise, so loud I know I'm going to hear a ringing for hours, and his body goes limp. I push him of with inches to spare, and open my wings to cushion my landing. It doesn't really work, mind. I land awkwardly on my foot and fall flat on my face. I can taste dirt as I lift myself up on my hands and knees and spit soil out of my mouth.

I give myself a quick mental physical. Ankle: painful, not broken, possibly sprained. Legs: bruised, from landing. Stomach: sore, bruised from the fight. Ribs: bruised, one or two broken, which may have caused some internal bleeding. I wince as I apply pressure with two of my fingers. Face: maybe a black eye, cut lip, I'm a little dizzy.

"Fuck!" I can't believe I let that shit get the advantage. That's the worst I've performed in years.

I fumble with the many pockets in my combats and find my cell. I speed dial 2 and Fang picks up on the first ring.

"I'm in the park." I say, leaning against a tree, trying to focus and stop the spinning.

"Holy Shit," I can hear him mutter under his breath, "I can get there in ten, the team will take 20. " He pulls away from the phone and I can hear him barking orders and co-ordinates. Slowly my focus goes, but I'm called back into the real world by Fang's gruff voice. "Max…MAX!"

"Yeah."

"Dead or alive." He needs to know if the target needs medics or the creepy stoner 'dudes' from the morgue. He can clearly tell that I'm badly injured, so is using simple terms to get to my spinning brain.

"Dead."

* * *

By the time Fang lands I'm feeling a lot better. The dizziness has stopped, and I've only coughed enough blood up for a minor internal bleed followed by some quick, avain-american healing. For the past two years, the older three members of the flock have healed small injuries in minutes. Part of the mutations; even Angels got hers down to a day.

Fang helps me to my feet, the right one being much less painful already, and surveys the scene. "So, you killed the bugger".

"Yeah." I look at the half-human, half-wolf body, bleeding onto the grass. I had to kill him. He was going to die anyway; it was just a case of whether or not I was going to die with him. I don't feel any remorse for him, and I know that I'm justifying this to myself. I also know why.

Fang bends down, picks up my bloody gun and wipes it with a dirty cloth from his pants pocket. It's when he puts the cloth back I realise he's dressed up fancy.

"Fang… I don't mean to panic you, but…"

He stiffens up, waiting for an Eraser to jump out or a faulty flyboy to fall out of the sky. "What?"

"You're… you're wearing a suit." He sighs and gives me the finger.

"Very funny." He hands me back my gun and I put it back in the holster around my leg. "I was in a bank, checking out a possible Eraser."

"Oh, shit, did I blow you're cover?"

"Nah, I had gotten back at the office already. Turns out he was just a really hot guy with a bad attitude."

Ok, maybe I should explain a little at this juncture. About 3 years ago, we decided to join the government. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. We turned them down before, but they weren't ready for us. This time, they had set up long before we got involved.

After the whole saving-the-world-again bit in 08, we really just flew from place to place, sorting out petty theft and occasionally stopping your average computer nerd with an ego trip, who really couldn't get over that hot chick turning him down. (No joke, this actually happened. More than once!)

Then, about three and half years ago, we saw an Eraser in the mall. Then in Burger King. Then we saw two on the train. So, when a little section of the FBI found three 17 years, escorting 8 and 11 year old siblings, and a 14 year old loud mouth who wouldn't stop going on about stopping the 'Rubbers' (her code word, ladies and gents, not mine) 'hanging out' (by which I mean squatting) outside a derelict building and offered them a chance to do something about it, said 17 years leapt at the chance. (Not that the offer of a real home had anything to do with it.)

Fast forward three years and you have Fang and I working for the Government we used to blame. Our mission? Simple. Find and bring back escaped experiments from the School. Oh, and it's not just Erasers. More later folks.

"Max…"

"What?"

Fang stands over me, raising an eyebrow. From what his face is saying, I must have momentarily lost contact with the real world and he's wondering if I need a psyche test. Actually, he probably thinks that a lot.

He helps me up and I dust myself down. Great, blood on the good combats. And that's when I remember. "Christ! My lecture notes are on the roof! If I hand in one more shoddy essay, Professor Staines is gonna kill me!"

"We'll pick it up on our flight home." He waits until the forensic team has gone by before he adds "You know Johnson is really not happy about the whole College thing."

"Stuff Johnson," I say, spreading my wings, "if he thinks I'm doing this forever, he has another thing coming. If it wasn't for the lectures, I wouldn't have gotten tonnes of Erasers. Seems they all want to grow as a person!"

"Grow as a person? Think up more inventive ways of killing us all?" The tall, dark and suited man weighs the options in his hands, "It's a potAto/potaato moment."

* * *

We land outside the house, but I stop Fang before he goes to the door. "Don't tell Nudge about… you know…" I point to holster underneath my pants on the inside of my left calf. "She only worries. I don't want her to think…"

He waves his hand to shut me up. "Enough said." And then he opens the door.

**A/N Opinions?**


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